


The Bet

by cassiopea (nina_monk)



Series: The Burly Banner Series [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, M/M, Tight Pants, Weight Gain, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nina_monk/pseuds/cassiopea
Summary: Bruce and Tony make a friendly wager, on whether or not Bruce can still fit in the same pants from the day they first met.





	

Bruce growled and squeezed in his gut as much as he could. His fingers trembled as he used all his strength to stretch the button to the buttonhole of his khakis, but it was a battle of wills - and as tough as his will was, he wasn’t going to win this one without a damn good fight. He knew that, instinctively. Didn’t stop him from trying, though.

With a final grunt that sounded pornographic, he sucked in a huge breath and quickly did up the button. And, it worked. Sort of. So maybe the khakis squeezed the hell out of him like a sphygmometer and his stomach fought against every puckered seam, but he’d done it.

“See?” He panted. Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “You owe me five bucks.”

Tony bit his lip to still the wicked laugh threatening to bubble from his throat. “Bruce…no. Forget the five bucks, just…put on another pair of pants. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“No, I’m fine.” But he wasn’t, he really, really wasn’t. Heat rushed to Bruce’s face as he realized how big his stomach had become; it heaved over his belt line like a tidal wave. Worse, his pants were gouging his hips and he could practically hear the strained threads of the button snapping with each breath he took.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. It had taken six months, but Tony made good on his promise to “fatten him up” after he’d been on the run for so many years. And because Tony’s food was ridiculously heavenly and extremely rich Bruce gorged at all times of the day, sometimes with Tony having him test different dishes from his personal cooks and stuffing him to the brim with the best of the best. He’d forgotten how comforting it could be to just laze around and enjoy life without fear of someone chasing him, but overindulgence came with a price; the indolent life came with bigger…bodies. The weight snuck up on him and he blamed some of it on Tony, who continually teased him with after dinner movie nights filled with decadent desserts. Bruce snorted. Might as well have taped a feeding trough to his maw.

Still, Bruce knew he had to be honest with himself; he liked it, or he wouldn’t have kept doing it. But he swore he hadn’t gained _that_ much, that he could still wear the pants he wore the very first day he’d met Tony. Tony nearly crapped himself laughing when Bruce told him, and so the bet had been made.

“Yes, you’re fine, that’s not in dispute. But there’s no way those pants fit you. You’ve put on a good fifty pounds since you’ve been here.”

Bruce shook his head and a curl drooped over his forehead. “No way.”

“Yes way. Hell, closer to sixty, I’d say. But if you still think you’re still the skinny minnie you’ve always been, come over here and sit next to me. We can watch a movie.”

Bruce nervously licked his lips. “I can, you know.”

“Double or nothing, Brucie. You sit without splitting a seam or popping a button, and I’ll believe you. I won’t say another word.”

“And you’ll stop patting my stomach like it’s your own little twisted timpani solo?”

Tony snickered darkly. “So what if I like tapping out ‘Immigrant Song’ on your big ol’ tummy. It’s fun watching your fat jiggle.”

Bruce flushed deeper. _“Tony_.”

“What?” He shrugged. “I discovered I like my guys a little meaty. Blame the Hulk, he started the kink.”

Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his scalp, causing his curls to fluff up in a chaotic mess of tangled, salt and pepper llama hair. Tony bit his lip and hid a sound of pleasure deep in his throat, because Bruce’s hair happened to be kink number two.

“Tony, your love for that…that _creature_ is dangerous. And you should quit trying to tease him. And me, by proxy.”

“C'mon, I’m not that bad.”

Bruce glared at him.

“Well, fine. Maybe a little.” Shrugging, he pat the seat next to him on the couch. Maybe Bruce was right, maybe he shouldn't poke the bear too much. “You’re stalling our bet, Bruce. So come on, sit down Mr. I-can-wear-what-I-want. Put your money where your ass is.”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

Tony’s grin widened. “So strut on over, big guy.” He couldn’t hide his snort at Bruce’s stiff-legged saunter to the couch. “Bruce, I’ve seen sausages that looked less stuffed.”

Bruce’s lips puckered in a sour scowl. “Are you going to keep making jokes at my expense?”

“Sorry, sorry. I can’t help it, it’s fun watching you try to walk in those tight pants. It does…things.”

Bruce stood in front of the couch, mentally working out how he could sit without causing himself an injury. “Is sex always on your brain?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Honestly.” Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Never mind that. Moment of truth, Brucie.” Tony licked the corner of his mouth and gestured beside him. “Should I count to three?”

“No need.” Bruce gentle lowered himself down, puffing the entire time, and immediately stretched out his legs. No way could he sit normally. But this--? He struggled to catch his breath and rubbed his hips. This, he could do. “See? Ah…no problem. I can sit. So you can quit–”

_Pop. Shrriiiiip._

Tony burst out laughing - burst out in the same way Bruce’s stomach surged through his pants and thrust the button to the floor. Same way his hips exploded both sides of his pants fabric.

“Okay, okay,” Bruce said, blushing scarlet. Tony was still rolling on the couch, struggling to breathe. “You win. Happy?”

Tony choked back his tears and softly tugged Bruce’s arm. “It’s priceless. Your face–”

Bruce made a noise and shoved his glasses up his nose. “Again at my expense.” He sighed and fingered the two new holes showing off his happy-face boxers, one of Tony’s many gag gifts to him. “So maybe I gained a little weight.”

Tony’s chuckles slowed and he took a deep breath to regain control of his higher motor functions. “Yeah. You have, more like a lot. But I don’t care. I kind of like it.”

“I know.” Bruce made a face. “You keep playing with my pudge and you keep sneaking me treats.” Bruce angrily shuffled off his ruined pants and tossed them into a corner. “I used to be skinny, dammit.”

“An unhealthy skinny, if you ask me.” Bruce made a face, but Tony sobered. “No, I mean it. You weren’t taking care of yourself.”

“And your solution was to make me _fat_?”

Tony shrugged. “Getting fat was your doing. I only provided the catalyst. But you must like it, otherwise you’d be pumpin’ iron with the rest of us.” He rubbed Bruce’s tummy, which had the audacity to growl back. “Poor tum-tum. All that abuse made you hungry, didn’t it?”

Bruce slapped Tony’s hand away. “Quit that. My stomach is an inanimate object.”

“Oh, I beg to differ. It growls when it’s mad, gurgles when it’s sad, tells me when it wants something delicious, like pizza.”

_Growwwll…_

“Pizza? Yeah? You want pizza, boy?” Tony gave Bruce’s belly a squeeze.

_GROWWWWLL…_

“See?”

Bruce moaned and rubbed his temples. There was no use arguing with Tony when he got into his moods. And to be fair, yeah. Maybe he _was_ hungry, even though he already ate a couple of hours ago. “Okay, fine. If you get a supreme with double cheese I’ll spring for the tip. But quit doing those weird things with my stomach.”

Tony made a pouty face. “Even the tummy rubs, when you eat too much? I love that.”

Bruce squirmed and turned from Tony’s expressive brown eyes. “Except…that. I uh. I like that.”

“Hah. I knew it. JARVIS, put in a call for Luigi’s. An extra large supreme with double cheese–” Bruce shot him a look. A large would’ve been fine.

_“Sir, Luigi’s is currently having a coupon special; a medium pizza of like or equal value can also be included in your order.”_

“Yeah, sounds good. Throw it in there, another double cheese supreme.”

Bruce made a noise, and Tony waggled his eyebrows at him. “You’ll end up eating it, don’t deny it.”

Bruce swallowed, and his stomach bubbled and gurgled as if agreeing with Tony. God help him, he probably would eat it, especially with Tony’s dirty coaching. Bruce shook his head and slowly rubbed his stomach. Like Tony said, he thought, rolling to his feet. it wasn’t as if he didn’t like it.

“Where’re you going?”

Bruce picked up his thoroughly done pants, and tromped towards the bedroom. “Getting a pair of give-up-on-life pants.”

“Sweats?”

“Sweats.” He spat back. “Might as well tell JARVIS to go on standby with my every day clothes. I may need to go up a size soon - and don’t you start, Tony.”

“What?” Tony affected the most innocent look he could, which wasn’t very innocent. “I said nothing. Nada. Zip.”

“Mm-hm.”

But Bruce left the room and missed the slow, careful, mischievous grin pinking Tony’s lips. Oh, yes. He was an evil mad scientist, Tony knew he was. But a fat Bruce was a happy Bruce, and Tony wouldn’t mind seeing the man just a tad bit happier. Chuckling to himself, he began humming the “Soft Kitty” song and planned out the next few meals. Hm. Bruce deserved to try the delights of a true Italian cheesecake. And maybe a few weeks of true southern fried goodness…

“JARVIS? Go ahead and put in Bruce’s clothing order, but add another few larger sizes in there. Two sizes larger than his request.”

_“Very good, Sir.”_

Tony smirked. He looked forward to the day Bruce had the same problem with his larger clothes as he had today.

Yep. Mad scientist, indeed.


End file.
